


That's Not My Name

by The_Little_Sun



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Bill Cipher is a Jerk, Brotherly Bonding, Ford and Stan centric, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Miscommunication, PTSD-mentions, Stan tries to be a spy, two old men who are dorks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-06 02:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6734461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Little_Sun/pseuds/The_Little_Sun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ford didn't mind the nickname Sixer. Stan had coined it when they were young and it had just stuck. Stan wasn't the only one to call Ford Sixer, though. Now the name contains echoes of everything Ford suffered at the hands of Bill. No one needs to know that, though. Ford can handle this himself.</p><p>(Diverges from Weirdmaggedon part 3 so that parts could fit the story better. So rather AU in that sense.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bill had always managed to find the chinks in his armor. No matter how hard Ford would try to hide some knowledge that would aid the demon, Bill would extract it using various forms of mockery, jeering, and invading of his mind. There was no where he could hide from the omniscient monster. Sleep would bring him face to face with Bill and every waking moment was filled with paranoid musings of when Bill would strike. It was only him and the demon that had tormented him day and night. Then Weirdmaggedon was upon them and Bill wasn’t confined to Ford’s nightmares anymore.

He had gotten Dipper to assist him in defeating Bill. He had hoped that with the element of surprise and the powerful technology he had ‘borrowed’ from the other dimension, Bill would go down with little resistance. It was the only logical way to save the town and keep the remaining townsfolk in from danger. And if Bill was thrown back into his own horrific, decaying nightmare realm then the weirdness that was engulfing the small town would hopefully dissipate. Then Mabel and Dipper would be safe. Stan would be safe. Ford would still have to figure out how to keep Bill from his sleeping mind, but that was a small sacrifice to pay to keep the dimension out of Bill’s hands.

But when had a plan of his ever work without a hitch? The bell tower had been the perfect spot to get Bill in the sights of his quantum disappablizer. He had his journals. Ford had been prepared. He simply neglected to include Bill’s power in his equations. When the bell had suddenly come to life behind him and his shot was thrown off-course, Ford immediately knew that everything was going to become...difficult.

Bill’s shot did not miss its target. The entire roof of the bell tower exploded with a roar. Rubble cascaded around the two Pines. Ford was able to get Dipper out of harm’s way, but was pinned by a large piece of brickwork. His chest protested at the crushing weight. A few ribs were cracked, if not outright broken. When the dust had begun to settle, Dipper had hurried towards him, hands out and panic clear in his eyes.

“Grunkle Ford!”

“Dipper, get down!” He slid the journals towards the terrified boy and began to explain that Bill could be defeated, but it was too late. The yellow demon was looming above him, a red glow surrounding the man and the debris keeping him in place. Ford only had a second to look over and see that Dipper had made it down the stairs to where it was marginally safer. Then he was facing Bill and his cronies.

“Look at who it is! Man, am I glad you showed up! Wouldn’t be a real party without you, Sixer.” A few of the monsters behind Bill sniggered. “I mean, seriously, it’s all because of you and that portal!”

Ford tried to struggle, but whatever power held him captive refused to let him move an inch. His breathing was labored enough with the burning pain in his chest and the overwhelming panic of being so close to the demon was only making things worse. Bill was talking to his ‘friends’, but suddenly turned back to him.

“You know, you’ll fit in with us freaks easy enough with that extra finger of yours.”

This was an easy out, an offer that Ford knew would beat whatever alternatives that Bill might offer. Before he could answer, he spotted a uncharacteristically blue object in the sea of reds and oranges that now made up Gravity Falls. Dipper. His family’s lives were resting on whether or not he spilled Gravity Fall’s secrets to this monster. The family that he just got back, was just getting to know. His brother that he had serious issues with but still would lay down his life for. Mabel, the ray of sunshine that brightened up the seriousness of any situation, and Dipper, with his cool collectiveness and impressive intelligence.

“I’d die before I join you!”

Bill shrugged. “Have it your way, Sixer.” When Bill raised his arms, Ford mimicked the action with confusion. Bill’s eye glowed. Searing pain drove out any conscious thought out of his mind. He was vaguely aware of being released and falling to the ground.

Ford came too with a start. “Bill!” He took an unconscious step forward, but was jerked backwards. To his horror, a thick blue manacle was tightly fastened around one boot and disappeared into the floor. Even through the thick leather, Ford could feel the heat radiating off of the glowing metal. He gave a few experimental tugs to test the durability of the chain, but was interrupted when Bill rose out of the floor a few feet infront of him.

“Heya, Sixer. Enjoying your accommodations?”

“Where am I?”

“The penthouse suite, kid! Best place in town-well, what’s left of town.” Bill floated up to a large triangular window above Ford’s head. “Isn’t it great? I mean, you and me, finally getting to talk physical form to physical form?”

“We have before,” Ford growled. He tried to step away from the demon, but the length of chain was already pulled taught.

“I mean in this plane,” Bill replied, “and on my own terms. No more kicking me out when I’m not wanted. That annoying metal plate in your head isn’t much use now.”

Ford panicked when Bill got closer and tumbled over in his haste to get away. Bill glanced down at the manacle and snapped his fingers. It disappeared without so much as a ‘poof’. Now free, Ford scrambled to the far side of the room. He glared at the demon. “If I’m alive, then you need something from me.”  
Bill rolled his eye. “Always the one to cut to the chase. No friendly banter with you.”

Ford didn’t respond, only glared all the harder.

“Fine,” Bill sighed melodramatically, “it appears that we can’t leave this town of yours. Some kind of force field is keeping us in. Know anything about it that you’d like to share, Sixer?”

Interesting. Ford had researched this only briefly before being sucked into the work on the portal, but he did have a few ideas on the subject. Nothing he was going to share, of course. Bill crossed his arms and waited, tapping on finger on the opposite arm. Ford would never tell the yellow monster what he knew. He wasn’t stupid. Bill would turn the entire world-the entire dimension into a ‘party’ that would only cause the dimension to collapse. He’d heard what Bill had down to his home dimension and had no interest in having the same be done here.

“I won’t tell you anything.”

Bill’s eye lit up. “I was hoping you’d say that, Sixer! I would’ve been disappointed if you’d just tell me. After all, I have some interesting party games that I know you’ll just die for.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

Ford had always assumed that time would slow down in a stressful situation. He’d experienced similar instants while trapped beyond the portal. But this? This wasn’t slow. This was sped-up, blurred memories that bled together. It was mostly a jumble of pain, terrifying blank gaps, and Bill’s laughter. All he could seem to remember is pain- _so much pain_ -then any recollection of events after were simply empty darkness. The gaps were always ended by a manic cackling and a “Sorry, Sixer. Didn’t realize that you’d give out so easily.” Then the return to the endless pain. If he could get himself to focus, sometimes he could still feel the electricity arcing across his skin.

It was just after another of the blank gaps and he had been not at all gently dropped onto the arm of Bill’s throne. The demon was staring down at him with an unbridled fury. “Look, kid. I just need to know how to get around the barrier. I’m sure it wouldn’t be so hard to let even a little something slip out.”

Ford couldn’t bring himself to reply. His tongue was heavy and his throat seemed ready to split apart if he so much as opened his mouth. The smell of scorched cotton and hair filled his nose and the metallic taste of blood coated his mouth. Every part of his body ached and when he tried to shift into a more comfortable position, sent screaming agony through every part of him. His nerves felt like they were on fire. Honestly, Ford was wishing for one of the blank moments where he could be in peace for just a minute.

  
“C’mon, Sixer. You aren’t a hero. I’m sure your precious family would be more than willing to overlook the fact that you told me how to break the barrier. Shooting Star and Pine Tree got over Stanley’s deception with barely any trouble.” Bill glanced down at his captive audience and angrily noticed that he wasn’t being paid any attention. “I mean, Shooting Star gave me the rift in the first place. You’ll forgive the girlie-girl for that.”

“Mabel gave you the rift?” Ford’s voice was rougher than sandpaper.

Bill floated closer to the wounded man. “Not to _me_. To the wonderfully willing meatbag that let me take his body for a spin. It’s amazing what you humans’ will do if you get a shot at revenge.”

Before Ford could respond, the room was rocked by a force slamming into one side. Bill spun around to see what all the commotion was about. There was a massive hole in one wall and looking in was a hastily built robot that looked like it had been converted from left overs from a house demolition. Ford’s face was lit up by a wide smile. Bill snapped at the assembled demons, “Well? What are you all doing just staring at the thing wide-eyed? Get out there and crush it!”

 Even from inside, Ford could hear Soos awkwardly chattering away to the monsters. He couldn’t see anything from his curled up position on the floor, but judging from the angry growls from Bill’s ‘friends’, it seemed that the robot had the upper hand. He tried to get to his feet to see if they were faring well, but without any support to lean on, he collapsed. Thanks to some of the frozen citizens’ placement in Bill’s throne, he managed to try again with more success. The robot, _definitely made of parts from the Shack_ Ford realized, had just tossed the purple brick-like demon far enough that he slammed into the far side of the barrier. There was a crackle and the beast disappeared from sight.

“Go Dipper and Mabel!” He cheered as the robot went to town on the monsters.

His voice caught Bill’s attention. He lazily floated over to the shaky human. “What did you say? Something about Pine Tree and Shooting Star? Oh, look’s like Mr. Brainiac here cares about someone other than himself! Maybe those kids will be useful afterall.”

“Bill, leave them-” Before Ford could finish, Bill had snapped his fingers and returned the man back to a golden state.

  
“This will be fun,” Bill cackled as he made his way towards the robot.

* * *

 The crew inside the Shackotron was hard at work. Mabel and Dipper rushed about, making sure everyone was okay after having received a headbutt that sent the robot flying. Stan had found a relatively safe niche to cram himself into and was angrily mumbling about ‘the dumb robot’ and ‘freakin’ stupid apocalypse’. Occasionally he would grumble about his brother. While he complained to himself, he watched the kids working to rescue Ford. _They work well as a team_ , he mused, _kinda like me and Ford when we were their age_ . He quickly shook off the thought of Ford. It was all _his_ fault anyway. He’d warned Ford not to get near the kids and vice versa, but no one listened. Now look where they ended up! Some kind of circus from hell with a side of giant robots.

He’d never admit this out loud, but Stan was rather relieved to be rescuing his idiot brother. From what he’d seen from the journals and the little snippets that Dipper had told him, the last place he’d have wanted Ford was with the crazy triangle demon that practically drove him out of his mind. Stan had just been _furious_ that Ford had to play hero and get caught. Dipper had tried to explain that Ford had been trying to save him, but Stan wouldn’t hear any of it. He couldn’t believe that Ford had brought Dipper with him to surprise attack the demon. If anything Stan’s heard about the yellow triangle is true, he’s not dumb. He’d had been expecting an attack, especially an attack by Ford.

“Grunkle Stan! Come on, we’re getting ready to leave!” Dipper shouted from across the room. He waved at Stan then darted off. Stan grudgingly followed the boy.

Dipper ran into a smaller room just off the main body of the robot. A few others were waiting, chiefly Mabel, Wendy, Soos, Pacifica, McGucket, and Sheriff Blubbs. Pacifica didn’t look to excited to have been picked.

“Okay, everyone grab a parachute and get into a tube,” Mabel instructed, handing out the backpacks that contained the hand-made  parachutes. Everyone slipped the pack on and stepped into a tube.

“This is a bad idea,” Stan grumbled.

“Relax, Grunkle Stan!” Mabel chirped from farther down the wall. “Just remember to pull on the string before hitting the ground!”

Pacifica scowled at Mabel, who responded with a beaming smile. “If I die, I’m _so_ going to sue you.”

Stan was going to retort with some witty comeback, but was cut off by Wendy shouting, “Alright, here we go!” She slammed her fist onto the red button next to her tube and everyone was suddenly sucked upwards.

The mouth of McGucket’s Gobblewonker spit the rescue team out. They sailed over Bill and towards the opening in the Fearamid. _Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. I am too old for this._ Stan was already yelling as they got closer to the floating pyramid. Mabel wasn’t all that worried and her brother had the look of serious concentration covering his face.

“Parachutes!” Dipper yelled when they neared their target. Everyone did as he said. Stan let out a panicked cry when he was a few feet above the floor, only to face-plant when he landed. Everyone else had more or less graceful entrances.

Stan resettled his fez and climbed to his feet. He glanced around, curious to see what he could make out about the demon from his castle of choice. It was empty except for where a large dull plum colored throne sat up on a dais. On closer inspection, Stan realized it was the throne comprised of the missing townsfolk. It was worse up close.

“This is much worse up close,” Dipper echoed. He wandered to the bottom of the throne and starred up. “How are we going to get up there?”

“I got you covered, brobro!” Mabel whipped out her prized grappling hook. “I’ll go up there and see if I can find Grunkle Ford.”

“Be careful, sweetie!” Stan called through cupped hands as the young girl aimed the grappling hook over one arm of the throne and shot up.

When Mabel reached the top, she tossed the gun back down to Dipper and waited for him to join her. Together they carefully made their way across the frozen townsfolk. They found found frozen in place, one arm thrown out as if to stop someone. The other arm was tucked protectively across his stomach. “We found Grunkle Ford! He’s still gold and not in the good way.”

“That’s fine! Just grab him and let’s get out of here!” Stan tapped his foot on the ground, nervously looking around for any signs of danger. Wendy and Soos paced around nearby, also on guard. Pacific had found her parents and was gazing up at them, a slight frown in place. Blubbs was no help either, just hurrying about to try and find his deputy.

“Gideon?”

Stan tried to peer up over the throne, but to no avail. He could only hear bits and pieces of Mabel and Dipper talking to the annoying white-haired brat. Apparently the kid had been caught by Bill, too. As much as he disliked the kid, Stan felt bad for him. Bill really does a number on the people he interacts with. Gideon must have known how to unfreeze the people making up Bill’s throne because a few seconds after the muffled conversation uptop stopped, the entire chair began to dissolve. The townsfolk lay where they landed in stunned disarray. Blubbs was already making a scene. Stan saw that Pacific and Wendy both found their families. He then went to find his own family.

Ford was still frozen in place when Stan made his way towards the kids. But as he got closer, the gold started to melt away, leaving a rather ragged looking Ford in its place. Dipper and Mabel let out a cheer when they saw him and he scooped them up into his arms. “Dipper! Mabel! You did it! I’m so glad you two are safe.”

Stan approached the little reunion with a stiff expression. “Yeah, happy to see you too, bro.”

Ford turned to his twin and was about to say something before his eyes rolled back in his head and he dropped like a stone. Luckily, Stan lunged forward and managed to catch his brother under his arms.

“Holy shit!” Stan carefully laid Ford on the ground and shook one shoulder. “Now is not the time to pass out on us! C’mon, Sixer.”

At those words, Ford’s eyes flew open. His eyes were wide and panicked. He flinched away from Stan’s hand. “Don’t,” he snapped, refusing to meet Stan’s confused gaze.

  
“Well, isn’t this _sweet!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I guess we start to get to the interesting part. Also featuring old men who need to realize that they are brothers and need to start acting like it. If there are any issues, let me know and I'll fix 'em.  
> *Note: I forgot to include McGucket in the first draft and so I just added him. Sorry for any McGucket fans.


	3. Chapter 3

This was a stupid plan. It would never work. Bill was sure to see right through the con. He should have listened! Bill will find out and hurt the kids, hurt _him_. The idiotic, stubborn brother of his is going to get them all killed!

Ford was ignoring the searing agony that cycled throughout his body. He ignored the barely covered crimson red welts that encircled his wrists. The pain radiating from his neck was the worst of all, but he could ignore it.

All because Stanley was standing in front of Bill with one hand outstretched.

The kids were off to the side, out of harm’s way- _not for long_ . They were safe for the moment. _He’ll kill them first._ Why weren’t they running? They need to get away while Bill’s distracted. _They can’t run from a demon._ He tries to wave them away, but they aren’t looking at him. They are staring in horror at the man they think is their Grunkle Ford as he shakes the hand of the being that has tormented them for so long. The betrayal and fear in their eyes send reminders of electricity shivering across his skin.

He did this for them. _They’ll die and it’s all his fault._ He tried to be strong enough to protect them. _Broken, broken, broken._

Stanley let out a muffled cry when Bill touched his head. The demon disappeared, leaving his body to be turned to stone. Stanley crumbled to his knees, blank face up towards the raging sky. The children threw themselves forward. Ford felt his bindings loosen. He slowly got to his feet and made his way towards the rest of his family.

Mabel was crying, silvery tears leaving clean tracks through the grime coating her face. Dipper was holding onto her sweater, blankly staring at the kneeling form in front of them. Ford limped up to them and put a hand on each of their shoulders. Dipper couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away, but Mabel peered up at him. “Grunkle Stan, you have to do something!”

Dipper was searching the face of the comatose man in front of him before suddenly gasping. He spun around and faced Ford. “You let Grunkle Stan make a deal with Bill.” His eyes were like iron. Mabel seemed startled at the discovery. She started to cry all the harder.  

“Children,” Ford mumbled, “I need you to step back.”

Dipper would have refused if Mabel hadn’t dragged him back behind Ford. They both watched him closely as he pulled out the memory gun from his-Stan’s jacket. He could feel their stares boring into his back. _It’s his fault._ He knew that.

He aimed the old-fashioned device at the face of his twin. _He looked so empty._ His finger squeezed the trigger. _He’ll be gone._ It was a struggle to get his finger to do as it was suppose to. He’d fired many weapons during his years beyond the portal. This wasn’t any different. _Stanley will be dead and gone. All because of_ his _ego._ He only had to pull the trigger. The children were getting nervous behind him. He had to do it before the tiny fragment of resolve faded away.

Ford turned his head away and squeezed his eyes shut. He pulled the trigger.

The blue light that erupted from the gun had quickly engulfed Stan. It only took a few seconds for the damage to be done. Those few seconds felt like eternity. When Ford released the trigger, he forced himself to look at the still blank face of his twin. A miniscule flicker of a smile twitched on his lips before his head lifelessly dropped against his chest. The younger twins were silent behind Ford. Anxious energy practically rolled off them.

A loud rumbling drew their attention away from the saddening figure. Dipper got to the window first and peered out. “You might want to see this.”

Ford and Mabel joined him. Mabel stood up on her tiptoes in order to see over the ledge. She let out a delighted gasp. “The rift is closing! And it looks like it’s sucking all the weird stuff up.”

The orange light outside was receding, leaving a the original colors in its place. The other demons and monsters, all letting out various unnatural wails and screeches, were dragged into the sky and towards the rippling rift. The rift itself had lost its cross shape and was beginning to fold into itself. Everything was beginning to return to normal. A few large chunks of dark purple and black masonry whipped past the window, startling the two children.

Dipper blanched. “That-”

“That was part of the Fearamid!” Mabel’s cry easily drowned out Dipper’s panicked mumbling.

Ford glanced around. Already bits and pieces of the room they were standing in were beginning to tear away from the main structure. It wouldn’t be long before the entire pyramid collapsed. A crack was racing along the floor towards Stan, who was still blankly staring up from the same position they left him. Ford lurched forwards. _Can’t lose. Can’t lose again._

“Stanley!”

Ford managed to get ahold of Stanley’s-his _-doesn’t matter_ -coat. He desperately tried to pull him away from the danger. His body burned with agony. _Can’t lose him again!_ He heard the kids come running. _Too late. I was too late. Why didn’t I just say..._

The bricks under Stan crumbled away. His body plummeted through the gaping hole.

 

_Thank you?_

 

“ _Stanley!_ ”

“Grunkle Ford, come on!” There was someone pulling on his sleeve. It was a relentless tugging that threatened to rip the fabric. Ford looked down at Mabel with a blank expression. _His fault, his fault, his fault, HIS FAULT_. She had tears forming in her brown eyes, but an angry determination was burning in them too. “We need to leave! Everything is coming apart!”

She had to angrily yank at his sleeve a few more times before getting him to move. Ford tried to clear his head, focus on the children hurrying alongside him. _Get them out. Get them somewhere safe._ He just kept repeating it to himself, stubbornly ignoring the flaring guilt that was threatening to swallow him. The younger twins kept sending him unreadable glances when they thought he wasn’t looking.

They had to hate him. He was the one who _stood by and watched_ while Stan shook hands with an all-powerful demon. He was the one who used the memory gun on his own brother. He hadn’t gotten to Stan in time. He’s the reason Stan is _gone_ . Stony guilt had settled itself in his gut and drove furious scoldings through his thoughts. _His fault._

“G-Grunkle Ford!”

Ford felt his neck twinge when he whipped his head up towards the panicky voice. Mabel was a few feet in front of him and beyond her was Dipper. Only he seemed to be on the opposite side of a gap in the floor. Mabel was looking between her two family members, unsure of what to do. Ford hurried to his great-niece’s side.

Mabel whispered, “What do we do?”

Dipper took a few steps back, before waving his hand at them. “I’ll jump back across.”

Ford held up a hand to stop him. “No,” he instructed, “you won’t be able to make it. Besides, we don’t want to backtrack. It’s too dangerous back there.”

“What should we do?”

Ford responded by snatching Mabel into his arms and tossing her towards her twin. She let out a startled yelp. Dipper scampered back to give his sister some room to land. Both looked surprised when Ford didn’t jump over to join them. He gave them a sad smile. “Off you go.”

“But Grunkle Ford-”

“There isn’t time!” Ford gestured for them to go. “You need to leave immediately. I’d only slow you two down and then-and then Stanley’s sacrifice would be for nothing.”

Mabel seemed liked she was about to argue, but Dipper nodded and took hold of her sleeve. He tugged her around and gave her a shove to get moving. She ducked her head and ran after her brother. Mabel stopped to send Ford a wavering, teary smile before disappearing around a corner.

Ford was alone. _Again._ This time was different though. He was going to protect his family, not let them suffer because of his mistakes. _Did a wonderful job of watching over Stanley._ He shook his head to try and scatter the mutinous thoughts from taking the remaining focus and collectiveness he had left. Instead of allowing his mind to dwell on the looming wave of guilt, Ford focused on the facts he had.

The children were going to be fine. They were going to be safe. Stanley...he was going to work through that later. Bill seemed to be gone. The rift was closing and taking everything Bill had created with it. He was stuck in the Fearamid. The only route that lead to the ground was ahead, but was now inaccessible. Maybe there was another way out? He could backtrack- _dangerous_ -and hope that he could find some other exit. The probability of there being another exit was unhelpfully low. _What probability? There isn’t any. He’s stuck here and he’ll die as it collapses around him._

“Shut up!” He snapped aloud. He had to focus, not pick over every thought and idea. He paced around the small area of flooring still intact.

It didn’t take long until the snapping and crackling noises of breaking apart masonry grew closer. Cracks were snaking along the walls around him and underneath his boots. Little chunks of the dark materials crumbled away from their position and disappeared out of sight. The flooring was already half its size and quickly shrinking. Ford’s feeling of entrapment ramped up the closer the edge of the floor got to him.

He knew it was going to happen. The floor would give out and he’d fall. It was the law of gravity. Simple. That didn’t mean that Ford was in anyway prepared to suddenly find himself jerked off his feet by a particularly vicious bit of flying debris. Stan’s fez was nearly whipped out of his grasp. Rushing wind and various unnatural objects passed him on his descent towards the unyielding ground. Ford clenched his eyes shut and curled around the fez to keep it as safe as possible.

He landed with barely a thump. Other than the previously inflicted injuries, Ford didn’t seem to have gotten hurt. He carefully got to his feet and searched around the wooded area he landed in. There was no one else. Nothing but trees and the dirt. He looked up towards the nearly gone rift. Interesting.

The next thing he knew, he was being tackled by two small beings. “Grunkle Ford!” A duet of delighted voices cried. His back was lit up like a christmas tree by burning pain, but he pushed it away in favor of pulling the two hugging his sides into a hug.

“Children, you two are safe. Thank-”

“Grunkle Ford, you’re okay!” Mabel interrupted happily. Dipper nodded enthusiastically. “And guess what? Since we all got down safe, Grunkle Stan would have landed safely too!”

Dipper’s face was drawn into a frown, but that didn’t dim the bright hope in his eyes. Ford could certainly understand wanting Stan to be safe and, well, _whole_. The last part was not as likely. He forced a smile. “That could be true, Mabel. Shall we go see if we can find him?”

Mabel’s face brightened and she shot away from her grunkle with a loud exclamation of, “Let’s go!” She raced off with Dipper right behind and Ford following them at a much more moderate pace.

Mabel and Dipper’s calls for Stan echoed throughout the forest. Sometimes something would make a rustling noise and attract a hopeful approach, but they were always disappointed to find a gnome or squirrel. Sometimes one of them would ask Ford a question about his thoughts on where Stan could be and he tried to seem positive. In truth, images of his brother laying on the ground, blood pooling around his head or a blank stare were flitting through his head faster than any of Mabel’s words.

Mabel dashed about while Dipper was patiently calling over and over. At least they tried. Their energy finally seemed to be exhausted an hour or so into the search. Who could blame them? The end of the world had barely been avoided. Their heavy footfalls and drooping eyelids were a clear testament to what they had to endure.

“Why don’t we take a break?” Ford watched as Mabel tiredly swept aside a large fern to check behind it. “We’ve gotten a lot of ground covered already. A little rest wouldn’t hurt.”

Mabel shook her head. “We can’t stop until we find him.”

Ford went to nod in agreement, but managed to stop himself before he could irritate the injury around his neck. “I want to find him as much as you do, Mabel. You two looked like you’ve hit the wall-repeatedly. It would be best if you just sat down-”

“No!” Mabel snapped, tears springing to her eyes. “We have to find him! Don’t you care about him?”

Ford recoiled a little at her angry words. _Deserved them_. He opened his mouth to try and comfort the now crying girl, but Dipper beat him to it.

“Hey, Mabel, it's alright. We’ll keep looking for him, okay?”

She sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “Okay.”

Dipper gave her a tiny smile that she returned before going back to sluggishly searching. Ford noticed that Dipper now kept closer to his sister then before. At least he wasn’t the only one to notice that Mabel looked shellshocked-not that Dipper seemed to be doing any better. They continued to move ahead, calling for Stan and desperately searching between the evergreens. A clearing was coming up that Ford was determined to make the kids rest at.

The trees began to thin out the closer they got to Ford’s target destination. While they were walking, Ford had been trying to figure out what to say to get the twins to listen to him. Stan had always been better with kids. He didn’t know what to do.

“Grunkle Stan?”

  
A hushed quiet filled the air before a loud shriek of “Grunkle Stan!” erupted from Mabel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this took forever for me to post, have a longer chapter!  
> (Writer's block is a bitch, but you didn't hear that from me.)


	4. Chapter 4

Ford wanted to snatch the two children into his arms and get away from the sight in front of them. Stanley was kneeling on the ground, eyes wide and alert. He was glancing around at the landscape surrounding him. Everything practically screamed that this was Stanley, but the blank look in his eyes and open face told the truth. This wasn’t his brother.

At Mabel’s cry, he looked over at her. She let out a breathless, shuddering gasp and took a few steps towards him before stopping in her tracks. She spun around and snatched the fez from Ford’s white-knuckled grip. Dipper walked behind the excited girl as she rushed to Stanley. She threw her arms around Stanley’s neck and exclaimed, “Grunkle Stan! You’re okay!”

He hesitantly raised his arms to hug her back. “Oh. Uh, hey, kiddo.”

Mabel drew back and arranged the fez onto Stanley’s head. It sagged to the left. “Good as new!”

Dipper was standing a few feet from the reunion. He frowned and focused on the face of his grunkle. Ford stepped up behind him, arms crossed and heart aching. He couldn’t help but wonder when the shoe would drop. Mabel may be blinded by the relief of seeing her family member unharmed, but surely she’d see that he was...different.

“Thanks?” Stanley reached up to brush his fingertips along the faded velvet of his new hat. Mabel only beamed at him. 

“You did it!”

“Did what?”

“You defeated Bill,” Mabel chirped, “I don’t know what you did, but it was awesome!”

Stanley’s face grew sad. “Sorry, kiddo. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mabel’s smile had begun to fade away at his words. She turned towards Dipper and was met by a nervous frown, then back to the haunting expression on her uncle’s face. “You...you don’t remember?”

“I’m really sorry, but I don’t.”

“You don’t remember anything?”

Stanley shrugged. He didn’t meet the girl’s eyes.

It was like watching glass shatter. Mabel’s expression completely crumbled. She stared numbly at the apologetic face in front of her before falling to her knees, and reaching out to grab handfuls of his coat. Dipper quietly approached them and crouched next to her. He gently pried her hands free and pulled her out of Stanley’s personal space. 

Ford watched everything as if it was from a distance. Mabel was crying, burying her head into Dipper’s shoulder. He had his arms wrapped around his trembling sister. Seeing the two in such distress sent icy tendrils through Ford’s heart. It nearly took all his will power to get closer to them-to the empty shell that was his brother. 

Dipper looked up at him with watery brown eyes. “What do we do?”

Ford placed a hand on Dipper’s free shoulder. “Head home and hope it’s still standing.” He ushered the children away. “Go wait a little farther off. I’ll help Stanley, make sure he’s not hurt, okay?”

There was a nod from Dipper and a shaky breath from Mabel. The twins, still gripping onto each other’s arms, walked back towards the trees. Ford waited until he was sure that they were out of earshot before turning his attention to the confused man before him.

“I’m sorry,” Stanley started only to trail off as he was engulfed in another embrace.

Ford buried his face in the collar of Stanley’s coat. “No, _ I’m _ sorry. You saved the world, the kids....you saved me. Thank you.”

Stanley awkwardly patted Ford’s back. 

_ You’re my hero, Stanley. _

Ford let go and sat back. He couldn’t say anything aloud, not to the man in front of him, not even when Stanley had been present. Why didn’t he just say something? Ford frowned and shook his head. It was too late now. His brother was giving him an awkward smile. Ford stood up and held out a hand. Stanley took it, and, with some help, got to his feet. He swept some grass and dirt off his pants. It was a painfully familiar action, but Ford refused to let it sting for long. 

“Why don’t we get you into something more familiar? That might help jog some of your memories.”

* * *

It took them a surprisingly long time to get everyone back to the Shack. Maybe it was the pure exhaustion that wanted them to just flop on the ground and close their eyes. In Ford’s case, it was more likely that his injuries had been aggravated by the constant movement. Regardless, the rag-tag group refused to let anything stop them. The Shack was a beacon of hope. Maybe something in the old house would trigger Stan’s memories, or at least a hint of something that wasn’t completely erased.

Emerging into the yard, the state of their home earned a gasp from the children. The former Mystery Shack was in ruins. The basic frame of the building had somehow survived the damage from being repurposed as well as being used as a demon’s golf ball. The roof was covered with gaping holes, and some of the walls were crunched inwards. The porch was snapped off on one side. Dipper was the first one to move forward. He tugged on the doorknob before letting out an angry huff. He backed up and rammed his shoulder into the wood. The door crackled under his weight before the entire surface snapped off its hinges and fell back. Dipper and the door landed on the floor with a thump. Mabel stepped in behind her brother and helped him up. She didn’t let go of his hand when they went further in. 

Ford led Stanley inside and into the living room. Stan’s eyes lit up when he saw the worn armchair backed against the miraculously, still standing wall. He shrugged away from Ford’s hand and plopped himself into the chair. 

Mabel looked over when he sighed. “Do you remember the Shack? Your chair?”

“Nah,” Stan shrugged, “but it certainly remembers me!”   


Everyone’s faces dropped. Stan hurriedly added, “Sorry, bad time for jokes?”

Ford simply nodded. Mabel let go of Dipper’s hand and began to search through the rubble around them. Dipper opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but he just as quickly snapped his jaw shut. He appeared as if he understood what Mabel was trying to do. Ford, however, was still a bit lost. 

“What are you doing, Mabel?”

Mabel’s response was weak and her voice still shook. “Maybe my scrapbook will help. Do you think that could work? It has the whole summer written out in it.”

“Mabel, sweetie, that won’t work. The memory gun-”

“I don’t care! It has to work!” Her voice broke and she sniffled. “Dipper, help me. It has to be around here.”

“I’ll check upstairs then,” Dipper mumbled before hurrying off. 

Ford watched Mabel helplessly scramble through the debris before sighing and kneeling down next to her to help search. He picked up a splintered panel that was too heavy for his great-niece. The motion sent a jarring pain down his back. With a choked sound, he dropped it. Mabel, who had been leaning forward, jerked back to stare at her grunkle with wide-eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, fine.” Ford picked up the panel again, this time keeping back any noise of discomfort. Mabel hesitated for a second, searching his face for something. She didn’t seem to find whatever it was she was looking for, since she leaned back under the wood. Ford could hear her moving and shifting smaller piles of rubble around. Then she let out a triumphant cry.

“I found it!”

She scooted back so Ford could let go of the heavy panel. He gladly did so. Even without the strain of holding it up, the skin under his sweater was a mass of agony. Mabel held up a large pink book so he could see it. It was showing some obvious signs of wear and tear, but was otherwise fine. Mabel tucked the scrapbook under her arm. She marched over to Stan, who appeared to have nodded off while everyone had been distracted. 

She wasted no time in climbing onto his lap, effectively waking him up. She waited until he looked down at her. “This is my scrapbook. Remember it? You said it was a horrible color.” 

He did grimace at that. “Ah, well, I think most people would.” Mabel gave him a good-natured glare before shifting into a more comfortable position and opening to the first page. 

“This is when we first got here! Dipper didn’t have his pinetree hat yet. You were kind of grumpy at first, you know. But I knew that you were really a big teddy bear on the inside! We just had to break through the grumpy old man act!”

Dipper had reappeared from his venture upstairs. When he heard Mabel’s excited chattering, a smile had began to tug at the corners of his mouth. He climbed onto the chair’s arm and leaned back against Stan. With a laugh, he pointed at a picture that was framed by ribbons and glitter. “That was when she tried to show you how to take a selfie.” Even Stan laughed at the out of focus and awkwardly angled photo.

Ford settled behind the chair and watched the children pour over the scrapbook with a vigorous energy. Stan laughed occasionally or asked questions, but never seemed to really connect to the stories. Even with the positive aura that enveloped the three in the chair, Ford could feel the small smile that had been hard-won by the various tales of his family’s adventures slowly fade. There was no sign of his brother. His laugh was different, the way he curiously questioned the two younger siblings was wrong. Everything about him was  _ wrong _ now.

Then that delightful pig joined Mabel in Stanley’s lap and gave him a sloppy lick across the face. Mabel was unceremoniously dumped onto the floor when her great uncle leapt out of his seat with the pig held at an arm's length away from his face.  “Ugh! Waddles, get off!”

There was a stunned silence. Dipper and Mabel’s smiles easily out shined the sun at that moment. “Mabel,” Dipper yelped, “keep going! It’s working!”

Stanley glared at the pig even as he settled back down and plopped the pig in his lap. Mabel scrambled to reclaim her position and flipped through the pink book until she reached a few days into their trip. Her gestures and words only grew louder in excitement. Dipper leaned in and added details to her stories every once in awhile or to correct her if she brought up something from the journal. 

Ford unconsciously leaned closer to the group as time went on. There was a determined spark in Stan’s eyes. He was clearly struggling to remember, but the sudden recollection of the infamous pig had spurred him to hang on to every detail that the children said. Ford could feel his heart lifting at the slow but miraculous progress. Apparently Stanley’s stubbornness had refused to be erased. 

By the time night had fallen, Mabel had coaxed a few more names and simple preferences from Stan’s memory. He liked his coffee black, Mabel and Dipper were his great-niece and nephew, for some reason he really disliked the name Gideon. Glitter and plastic dinosaurs did not taste good. Stanley was a little concerned about how he knew that.

One thing that he couldn’t remember was who Ford was. He had made the connection that they were related, they looked the same for pete’s sake, most likely twins. But regardless of how hard and how badly he wanted to recognize the figure that was leaning on the headrest behind him, he just couldn’t. Mabel and Dipper weren’t really able to provide any help, and Ford was hesitant to reveal anything. 

It was only after Ford moved his hands into view to gesture about something that Stan’s mind jumpstarted. His beloved brother, the one who had such a promising future, the future that he crushed because of his stupid self-worth issues, the one who shoved him into the burning side of machinery and left a brand on his shoulder, the one he pushed into a spiralling blue portal, the one he lost and fought so hard to bring back.

“Sixer?”

Ford flinched at the soft spoken word. Flashes of yellow darted through his vision and the agony that had been fading from his body returned with a vengeance. He pushed himself away from the armchair and stumbled back. 

“Don’t call me that,” Ford snapped. The children’s eyes widened and they exchanged a worried look. Stan’s expression creased in confusion and concern. But before anyone could respond to the strange outburst, Ford had disappeared  into the deep wreckage of the house.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Halfway done! I already have chapter five started, so hopefully I'll be able to get it up in a reasonably short amount of time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh guys, I am so sorry that this is BEYOND late. Hopefully I'll be able to keep a better schedule in the future, but for now, enjoy the newest chapter!
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has commented. You guys are the best! 
> 
> Note: Formatting may be wacky since I am on my phone.

Once he had found his way through what remained of Stanley’s inaccurate tourist trap, Ford had immediately thrown himself into the elevator and huddled in a corner. The shaking had nothing to do with the slow descent or the way his stomach twisted against the acceleration. Flashes of the past few hours were plaguing his mind. The horrible agony of his injuries, the all-consuming fear for the children, and the horrifying realization that his brother has gone.  _ And he hadn’t even said thank you. _

The second the elevator doors slid open, Ford hurried out. There was work to be done. Was Bill truly gone? The gun had worked on multiple individuals on several different occasions, but was it strong enough to wipe away an entire being composed of pure energy? So many theories to test. It was lucky that all of Ford’s equipment looked to be relatively intact.

When Ford reached up to get a slightly charred notebook from one of the shelves, pain skittered across his skin.  _ Right. _ First, he’d have to attend to his injuries. He remembered that there was a medical kit somewhere that Fiddleford had insisted on. 

Hopefully his old friend was alright.

There was a first aid kit next to the elevator that looked like it had been used often. He didn’t want to think of what that might mean. Instead, he emptied its contents onto a table and turned his attention to his clothing. Ford tugged off his coat and gently pried the fabric of his sweater away from the hidden burns. It was a miracle that the fabric hadn’t gotten stuck to the wounds. Trying to apply burn cream and wind the bandages tight was a study in patience. If Ford had someone to assist him-no. He brought this on himself and he will deal with it without bringing anyone else down with him. There was no need to burden the children’s nor Stanley’s still fragile minds. 

However, apparently that wish was not meant to come true.

The soft ding of the elevator startled Ford enough for him to drop the tube of burn cream. With a whoosh, the doors opened and out stepped one of the last people Ford wanted to see. “Stanley, what are you doing? You should be resting or at least working to try and recover your memory.”

Ford’s snappish voice didn’t phase Stanley. He crossed his arms and glared at Ford. “You took off. I may not be as smart as you, but I at least care for my family enough to truck after you to see if you’re alright.”

“ _ I’m fine _ . Go back upstairs.”

Stanley raised an eyebrow and gestured to the burn Ford was currently dressing. “That doesn’t look fine to me. Ford winced. Stanley came over and crouched down to examine the injury. “This looks pretty nasty. What happened?”

“Just carelessness,” Ford mumbled. He handed Stanley the roll of gauze. “It isn’t that bad.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

It was quiet while Stanley worked. Ford didn’t admit it, but he was thankful that he didn’t have take care of the rest of his injures alone. He focused on a spot on the wall that had been slightly discolored thanks to a rampant experiment before the whole portal incident. He mostly ignored Stanley expect for the occasional grunt or muffled noise of pain. 

Stanley sat back on his heels when he was done. “There. Anything else?”

“That’s it,” Ford replied. He couldn’t look his brother in the eyes. Technically, he wasn’t lying. Everything else had been dressed-just fairly poorly.

“I may not remember everything, but I remember that face. You’ve always been bad at lying. Where else are you hurt?”

Ford pushed to his feet, ignoring the protest of his body, and stumbled out of Stanley’s reach. “That’s it. I’m fine. Thank you.”  

“Wow, you want to get rid of me that badly? Fine then. I’ll go. It’s not like good ol’ Six-”

“I told you not to call me that!”

The outburst surprised both of them. Stanley’s expression morphed into something akin to concern. But Ford was already heading towards the elevator. Stanley ran after him.

“Wait, Ford! What’s wrong?”

Ford smacked the elevator controls and couldn’t help hunching his shoulders. Multiple emotions were fighting for control, but the one that came out on top was panic. He didn’t want Stanley to know. The kids couldn’t know. He was weak and Bill knew it. He almost killed everyone, he deserved all the pain and agony. He certainly didn’t deserve a brother that was still worried for him even after all the torment he imposed on Stanley.  _ He hadn’t deserved to be saved. _

There was a hand on his shoulder and he whipped around, expecting an angry outburst. Instead, Stanley’s face was kind. “Let go of me,” Ford hissed.

“C’mon, Ford. Please talk to me.”

“Let go, Stanley.”

The grip got tighter. “Not until you tell me what’s up with you.”

The elevator dinged and distracted Stanley for a moment. Ford wrenched himself away from his twin and stepped back through the doors. The elevator closed, leaving Stanley on the other side. As the elevator began to move up, there was pounding on the door and muffled shouting. Ford drew a hand over his face and braced himself against the back wall. 

He practically ran off once the elevator opened up into the gift shop. The children were waiting, both appearing nervous. Mabel was settled on the counter, swinging her feet and one strand of hair in her mouth. Dipper was pacing the length of the rug in front of the counter. His hat was crooked. 

“Ford! Where...where’s Grunkle Stan?” Dipper was peering around Ford. 

Ford began edging toward the doorway that would lead him back into the house. “Coming up.”

“Great!” Mabel’s brilliant smile lit up her face. “Did you make up? Hug it out?”

“Uh, no.” He didn’t wait to see her smile drop. Ford ducked into the hallway and hurried back to the living room. It didn’t seem like he was going to be able to find any peace and quiet in the house. He didn’t want to leave the safety that the familiar-although wrecked-walls held, but there was too much that he needed to do. Not just for his peace of mind, but for the safety of his family. 

It was only a few seconds after Ford disappeared when the elevator dinged and opened to reveal a fuming Stanley. Mabel pushed off the counter and flew to his side. She clung to his arm. “What happened?”

“Same as before. The idiot won't talk to me.”

Dipper glanced back at the dark doorway. “So he’s not okay?”

“Got a nasty burn,” Stan shrugged, “and he looked a little spooked. He’s always been on the skittish side though.”

He wrapped an arm around Mabel and she beamed up at him. Dipper corrected his hat and went over to them. “I'm just glad you two are okay.”

He let go of the kids and they scurried off with the goal of finding something still edible. Stan rubbed at his eyes. He hadn't wanted to tell them about Ford's outburst. Because there was something in Ford's voice that had scared him and it wasn't the anger.

  
It was the fear.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, got some news! This chapter ended up reminding me that I still have a few more issues to address! That means this is getting a bit bigger with a total of TEN planed chapters! So yay! ...I would promise to be updating it more regularly now, but come on, who am I kidding? Anyway! Enjoy some Stan being a nerd!

Stan had once found a stray dog. It was a large, scrawny thing that had the tendency to bite first, but Stan had found himself head over heels for the creature. He had found it sniffing around a back alley while he was walking back to his motel room. It had immediately backed up, snarling and snapping at him. Just seeing the poor thing sent a stab of sympathy through Stan’s heart. It took a while, but he managed to coax it back to his room by offering tidbits of a cheeseburger. It appeared to like the much warmer room and had even jumped up on the bed. That didn’t mean that it was comfortable.

In order to see what set the dog off, Stan carefully engaged it in some trial and error tests. Would the dog react poorly if he moved too fast? Too slow? How did it behave when given food? When was it aggressive and could he prevent the aggression from being pointed at him? It took time, obviously, but thanks to patience, it worked. The dog, while still skittish and distrustful of others, was a complete sweetheart with Stan. 

Maybe some trial and error was required for him figure out what kept setting off Ford. Ford usually spent time with him while they would go over their childhood memories. Stan usually talked with Ford prompting him here and there. It was an easy and a laid back atmosphere. This would be a good place to start.

“No, no. That was when Mom decided to try and teach you how to drive while Dad was away.” Ford had scrounged up some old pictures and had spread them out on the coffee table. He was pointing towards one where Stan’s face was bright red and their mother looked positively livid. “You nearly hit someone.”

Stan chuckled. “That old lady down the street, right? The one that always had that stupid pink hat.”

“I believe so.”

“I think it would have been a service to everyone if we didn’t have to see that ugly hat again.”

Ford laughed and swept the picture back into a box on the floor. He shuffled through the remaining photographs before pulling out a class photo from high school. “Can you remember any of them?”

Stan pointed to himself and Ford, which earned him an eye roll. He stared at the glossy picture for a few moments before picking out a pudgy blonde towards the back. “That’s that jerk that really liked givin’ you a black eye.”

“Oh! That was-”

“You never could get away from people like that, huh?”

Ford whipped his head up to stare at Stan, eyes searching him for something before hastily moving the picture away. “What about this one?”

Stan had expected a response along those lines. Ford was uncomfortable with anything that so much as hinted at Bill or his old work. So maybe his sudden outbursts had stemmed from something involved with Bill? That seemed like the most likely cause. Based on what Stan could remember from Weirdmaggedon, Gravity Falls had become a town full of nightmares. It was enough to traumatised, but someone who had worked closely and apparently trusted the being behind the freak show? That must have been a heavy hit for Ford.  _ But  _ that still didn’t explain what Stan had did or said that set him off.

Stan decided to wait to try anything else until later.

The following morning, Ford surprised everyone with pancakes. Stan had graciously accepted a plate. Mabel dug through the fridge for jam while Dipper attempted to get at the cabinets. Stan had hidden the kids’ maple syrup after a particularly messy arts and crafts night. 

“Need some help, kiddo?” 

Dipper huffed, but nodded. Stan went to get up, only to find himself pushed back down and a mug of coffee shoved into his hand. “You eat.” Ford ordered with a small smile. Stan sipped at his coffee while Ford searched. To be honest, he couldn’t remember which cabinet he had hidden the stuff. Dipper kept pointing at one, only for it to turn up empty of syrup. Maybe it was actually in the hall closet? Soos would have probably found it and returned it to the kitchen if it had been there. It could be hidden down in Ford’s lab, he supposed. That place had more than enough nooks and crannies to hide a weird old woman-shaped bottle.

“Mabel, was it in the fridge?” Dipper was looking a little put off.

His sister shrugged. “I didn’t see it, but I wasn’t really looking for it.”

Ford had reached up to feel around the tops of the cabinets when Stan noticed that something was off. Peeking out from under both of Ford’s sweater sleeves was a thick ring of white gauze. The gauze looked clean, but it still shook Stan.  _ He hadn’t noticed _ . Ford had been hiding injuries, probably similar ones to what Stan had seen and helped with. And he hadn’t noticed. Honestly, Stan felt like smacking his head against the table. How had he not noticed that Ford had been in pain? 

Ford  _ had _ avoided the family the first few days after Weirdmaggedon. Had he been slinking off to tend his injuries? Stan had just assumed that Ford was just being paranoid and checking that there were no lasting effects from Weirdmaggedon. He was so stupid! How could he have missed something this big? This was just all the more reason to keep a close eye on Ford.

Stan reluctantly returned his focus to his breakfast. He wasn’t very hungry anymore. 

It was until a late dinner, that another perfect opportunity presented itself. Ford was sitting at the table, writing in one of his journals, and occasionally questioning the kids about their day. Mabel would fill the kitchen with her excited chatter with Dipper interrupting her when she got to excitable. Stan was happy to just lean back in his chair and listen to his family. It had been awhile since everyone had been so at ease. 

Once the kids had wandered off to watch TV, Stan leaned forward and tapped the journal. Ford glanced over and raised an eyebrow. Stan floundered for a moment before deciding to start simple.

“Thanks, uh, for digging through your junk to find all those old photos. They really help.”

Ford set his pen down to give his twin his full attention. “I honestly didn’t think they were still lurking about.”

“Ford, you have so much stuff just piled around that I bet you could find anything.” Stan laughed and Ford joined in with a soft chuckle. 

Ford was quiet once the laughter died down. He was still watching Stan, waiting for something. Maybe he knew what Stan was trying to do? Would he get upset? Stan cleared his throat. “But seriously, I really appreciate you helping. I chucked everything that reminded me of home when I left. Without you, I don’t know if I’d have been able to remember anything at all.”

Ford at first appeared shocked at the confession. The shock morphed into a soft smile, but there seemed to be something haunting the gesture. “I was a lousy brother before. I don’t intend to continue to be. I was never there for you, but I’m going to change that. We’re brothers and I can’t expect our relationship to improve by letting you deal with things yourself.”

_ It works both ways, you idiot _ . Ford just had to tell him what was wrong. Then maybe they could actually patch things up, not just some superficial wounds and Stan’s patchy memory. Stan was startled when Ford stood and stretched. 

“I’m going to bed. Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Ford waved a hand in response and walked into the hallway. Stan couldn’t help but wince when he saw that his brother seemed to be limping. He wished he could get Ford to ask for help because whatever it was looked awfully painful, but he didn’t want to push him. That would just set back all the progress that they’ve both worked so hard for. Maybe he better ask the kids if they noticed anything.

Stan belatedly called out, “Night Sixer!” 

  
There was a crash and a curse. 


End file.
